The Rise of Blades
by Author00
Summary: The oldest threat in the Albion's history has awakened, and it will take the efforts of William Black's three greatest descendants to defeat it.


Chapter 1

Aftermath of War

The great ruler of Albion, King Alexander Lionheart, son of King Sparrow Lionheart, sat upon his throne, mourning the great losses he had suffered. His mentor, his greatest friend, was dead. By Alexander's own hand, no less! That damned thing, the Crawler, had taken him over!

He had given so much to his people. He had been so free with the kingdom's money, which was his own, amassed through months of rent from hundreds of shops and houses and treasure attained at risk of his own life. His wealth wasn't much to him, though. No, worth nothing.

His armies. Over six hundred thousand young men had stood, in freshly cleaned uniforms, sharp and bright blades by their sides, toting two million gold pieces worth of flintlock rifles. Now, half of his great military was made up of men who had been hardened into veterans in one terrible day. As for the other half of his army, well, he had to keep in mind to tax all coroners a little more heavily.

Then, there was his wife. His beautiful Elise, his wonderful, thoughtful, understanding, loving, gorgeous wife Elise had been one of the less than one hundred civilian casualties. He was fairly certain the Shadow Army had purposely hunted her down, like a bloody dog, simply to hurt him. He had found her body, broken and bloody, surrounded by the corpses of a hundred men he had left to keep her safe.

Her service had been a bit more quite than Walter's, and by that, he meant no statue or gunshots. The attendance had been himself, Page, who had become a good friend of Elise's, Ben Finn, who had been to support Alexander in Walter's stead, and surprisingly Laszlo. He remembered the man's exact words to Alexander.

_'Some Hero you are. Couldn't even protect your wife. I trusted you to protect her. I trusted you. Bastard.'_

He had said Hero like it was profanity. The sad thing was, Alexander had agreed.

If there was one good thing to come out of this, it was survival. The treasury had held over six million gold, raising the army needed to reduce civilian casualties to virtually zero. His people had never loved him more. That was good. The love of millions he didn't know.

His two children, one born a month after his ascension to the throne, a boy named Cullen, and a girl, born nine months later, named Rose, after the aunt he had been told so much about. Both born in secret, neither killed in the attack of the Shadow Army.

They were all he had left now. All he had to live for.

"Sir?" Alexander looked up and saw that General Ben Finn, who had been convinced to stay and forgo travelling, after hearing of Elise's death, was standing in the doorway. "Sir, they are ready for you."

Alexander sat up strait. Court today, time to greet his people. The sooner that was done, the sooner he could go back to bed and visit his kids. But as he stood, the world froze like it had the day before. A swirling Guild Seal appeared in Alexander's path, a thing he did not need. It was an omen, one that said he could rest no longer.

Shaking, from rage and fear, he stepped through the portal.

* * *

><p>The great King Sparrow Lionheart had been dead for fifteen years. He had been buried in a tomb in the wonderful Bowerstone Gardens, next to his wife. He had been hailed as the greatest Hero ever, though after meeting others, he had to disagree. Of course, he was pretty damn strong.<p>

He had lain in his grand coffin for a year, waking only when the rest of the world had moved on, as was mandatory for William's descendants. He would then meet many more Archons who had unlocked the ability to live forever, traveling in lands far from Albion. He would see again his old friend Hammer, and his friend Garth, both of whom were withered and decrepit, but still in character.

He had grow stronger, more powerful, forging his own katana and pistol to replace the Daichi and Red Dragon, still in the Albion National Vault. And he now resided in Knothole Island, which had been a place forgotten by the few in Albion who had known of it.

He had been in the tavern, sipping from a tankard of ale, when he learned of his kingdom. A man with many tattoos, wearing the outfit of a mercenary, had been speaking about the fall of King Logan and how he had fought with the new king.

"WHAT!?" Sparrow roared, slamming his tankard on the bar. He grabbed the front of the shirt of the drunk who had been bragging about his part in overthrowing his eldest son.

The man, who seemed to understand he had pissed off the wrong person, slurred out, "Logan wa' a tyrant! Kin' Alexander is jus'! He protected us from da Shadow Army!"

Sparrow stared at him for a moment, before lowering the drunk back into his seat. "It has been some time since I lived in Albion. Tell me the story."

Sparrow then listened to the second-hand account of the 'Alexandrian Revolution', as it was now called. He heard about the great exploits of the new king, his youngest son. His horror grew as the drunk spoke of Logan's crimes, the injustices Logan put upon his people. The child labor, the executions, the poverty and crushing taxes.

He had learned of Alexander's fleeing from the castle, his victory in the Reliquary, how he had then fought the mercenary Saker, who happened to be the man Sparrow was speaking to, and triumphed, only to spare Saker out of the kindness of his heart.

He learned of Alexander's convincing the people of Brightwall to follow him, how he had gone to Mourningwood Fort and defeated a legion of hollow men with the aide of the Swift Brigade. How he had been instrumental in the founding of the new settlement of Driftwood, a place on the site of the gypsy camp Sparrow had grown up in.

He had learned of Alexander's bringing the town of Understone to the surface, denying great personal wealth to do so. He had learned of Alexander's rescuing his wife, Elise, a girl who had been brought to the castle by Sparrow himself from the orphanage so Alexander would have a playmate, from the infamous criminal Nigel Ferret. How Elise had broken off her engagement to be with Alexander.

He learned of Major Swift's execution, of some of Albion's best being declared traitors. He heard of the destruction of several dozen soldiers and a dozen ships by the vengeful Alexander and Ben Finn, Swift's direct subordinate and surrogate son. He heard of the two, accompanied by Walter, leave for more allies in Aurora.

He had then heard a much less detailed account of Aurora's involvement, how King Alexander had crash-landed on Aurora's shores with his mentor Sir Walter Beck. Sparrow's heart had warmed when he heard that his old friend was helping his son. That warmth promptly disappeared when he learned Alexander and Walter nearly died.

Sparrow learned of the revolution, of how Alexander mercilessly destroyed all those in his path, through lightning and fire and blade and bullet. He heard of Logan's trial, his reasons for his tyranny, how he was spared in favor of uniting against the great threat of the Crawler.

He learned of Alexander's many decisions over the year, always ruling justly, rebuilding Bowerstone Old Town, annexing Aurora as a part of his kingdom, outlawing child labor, killing Nigel Ferret, renovating Bowerstone Orphanage, opening the Brightwall Academy to all, and returning Mistpeak to the Dwellers being just a few examples.

He learned of the rumors of Alexander donating millions of gold pieces to the treasury to even out this spending, and he nearly chuckled when he learned of a landlord who made millions each month, owning nearly ever house in Albion and renting them out at amazingly fair prices.

"So, what happened with the Crawler?" Sparrow asked, almost scared of the answer. With those specially enchanted weapons, with the gauntlets, with Walter and his army, he had to be alive...

"Don' know." Saker responded, taking a gulp of the beer Sparrow had bought him, a bribe to keep the mercenary talking. "My men left me, an' I set out to pirate on the seas. Ship crashed, and I washed up here." As he launched into a no doubt blown-up tale of the glorious battle between himself and Alexander, Sparrow leaned forward against the bar.

_'A good disguise and I can see if my son was victorious... Or if I have to fight this Crawler myself.' _Were his thoughts when he felt a familiar tugging sensation in his gut. His final thoughts before disappearing a in flash of blue light were, _'What does that old seer need now?'_

* * *

><p>It was a relatively warm day, for Snowspire village. In the village were many men and women, content with their tiny little frozen hamlet. Shopkeepers and villagers haggled over prices, guards patrolled, and men drank in the bar. In this bar was one man, the only man who knew that the rest of the world had moved on.<p>

He was the only one who knew of the fall of the Heroes' Guild, and of the time that passed. He was the only one who had known of the invention of guns, the change of the world. He was the only one who knew Lucien Fairfax had threatened the little settlement fifty years ago. He was the only one who knew of the uniting of Albion under the vanquisher of Lucien Fairfax.

He was the only one who still knew of the events of the world, of the 'Age of Industry'. Of the defeat of the Crawler by one of his descendants. His only descendant, who was still living his natural life, that is. He had been proud, but he had moved on.

He had become this village's protector, defeating Snow trolls whenever they would attack, along with the occasional hollow man hoard. He was Gladiator, Sabre, Hood, Ranger, Assassin, Avatar, Liberator, Paladin, and, unfortunately, Chicken Chaser. He was the Slayer of the White Balverine, Defeater of Twinblade, Champion of the Arena. He was the slayer of Jack of Blades.

He was Edmund Robe, the Hero of Oakvale, and he was retired.

Yes, aside from the occasional Snow Troll to fall to the Harbinger, he was 'Kind Old Man Ed' to the children of the village of Snowspire, and protector to the adults. He had left this place twice in the last five-hundred years. Once to learn of his immortality from Scythe, which came from using his skills as a Hero, and once to inform his descendant Sparrow of the mixed blessing of immortality.

So when he felt his Guild Seal pulse, he pulled it out and began charging it. "What do you need, Teresa?" He muttered to himself, before disappearing in a flash of blue light.

* * *

><p>"My disease has taken all my powers." Scythe said to Teresa, standing in the same spot Sparrow had fifty years ago. "I cannot fight the Court any longer, and the Queen has once more risen. I do not know how long it will be until the Knight and Jack have returned, and we have the Corruptor to contend with as their vanguard."<p>

"I know. I have seen." Teresa responded. "The three are our greatest chance."

Scythe nodded grimly. "Get them."


End file.
